


The Tiger that Tears

by starlitsonder



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlitsonder/pseuds/starlitsonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jealousy is a tiger that tears not only its prey but also its own raging heart." -unknown</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tiger that Tears

**Author's Note:**

> This little story is set sometime before Akihito gets a hold of the disk in vol 1. There's a blink and you'll miss it homage to eprime's "Sidetracked."

Serving drinks and miniature food to rich people is surely the most glamorous gig Takaba Akihito has had in a while and though the atmosphere definitely beats the freezing cold back streets and alleyways of Tokyo, Akihito is sure he prefers them to the snotty looks the benefit’s guests have been giving him all night. And he’d tried so hard to tame his hair too. Still, he smiles back at them and restricts the name calling to his mind.  
  
Refilling his tray with glasses of champagne, he looks around at all of the tuxedos and shimmering cocktail dresses and an image suddenly flashes in his mind of Asami Ryuichi with his tailored designer suits and fine Italian shoes. He wonders if Asami would come to something like this and then shakes his head violently, nearly spilling the champagne from the flute in his hand. Why is he thinking about that overbearing jerk anyway?  
  
But oh man, what if he saw Akihito like this? He’d probably never hear the end of it. The thought of Asami laughing at him makes him more upset than he is ever going to admit.  
  
“Hey, Takaba, quit your daydreaming. You’ve got work to do,” one of his fellow waiters snaps his fingers in front of Akihito’s face.  
  
This time the champagne does spill.  
  
“Damn it!” Akihito curses and kneels down to clean it up. For one brief second, he thinks he catches a glimpse of that familiar Italian leather. It’s got to be a fluke. After all, how many rich guys are at the benefit? A lot, Akihito surmises. It couldn’t possibly be him.  
  
His coworker grabs him by the arm and yanks him up. “Get up, the cleaning staff will take care of it,” he hands the tray of champagne flutes back to Akihito. “You’ve got other things to worry about.”  
  
Akihito makes his way back into the crowd, handing out champagne when he is asked for it. It’s shaping up to be a rather dull evening with the only bright spot being the cash he’ll be paid under the table at the end of the night.  
  
Excitement comes unbidden when Akihito begins making his way back to the table to refill his tray and sees _him_. Asami. There’s no mistaking it this time and Akihito can’t help it as his tray clatters against the floor.  
  
All of the guests turn to see what made the noise and Akihito ducks down quickly, but knows it has to be too late. His bleached blond hair is unmistakable. Asami had to have seen. He dashes back to the waiter’s station and peers out from behind the table.  
  
If Asami did see him, he certainly isn’t giving any indication of it. He’s calm and composed as always and for one split second, Akihito admires how well he looks in a tuxedo until his eyes land on something red and sparkling next to Asami.  
  
Akihito’s fists clench subconsciously as he appraises Asami’s apparent companion. For starters, she’s a woman. She’s small, shorter than Akihito. Her jet black hair is pulled back into a stylish up-do that looks rather mussed. Her face is flushed and her red, sparkling dress is somewhat rumpled, but only just a little. Her smile is too wide and she’s holding onto Asami’s arm like he might run away at any second. Akihito wouldn’t blame him, he can feel her phoniness oozing all the way from his hiding place.  
  
Other members of the wait-staff eye him warily, but no one is quite brave enough to approach him now.  
  
In the middle of his seething, Akihito curses himself for not bringing his camera. Asami would probably have his guard down at an event like this and- oh. He makes out the familiar brick wall known as Suoh and then really wishes he had his camera because the bodyguard just looks so ridiculous in his penguin suit.  
  
But his ire returns when the woman leans up and kisses Asami on the cheek and ire flares to anger when Asami’s hand trails down to the small of her nearly-bare back and his lips press against the top of her head. It’s practically... affectionate. So the bastard is capable of that, which means he just chooses to be pushy and arrogant and rough with Akihito.  
  
Before he can even stop himself enough to wonder why he cares how Asami is with other people and why he would want Asami to be affectionate with him, Akihito is standing in front of Asami and his entourage, shaking, but determined. “What the hell, Asami?” he demands, “I’m good enough to screw but not good enough to be your date?”  
  
For just a moment, Asami looks shocked but Akihito misses it, instead glaring at the woman standing next to him.  
  
She’s glaring right back. “Ryu-chan, you know this... this servant?”  
  
It’s at that point that Akihito boils over. “Ryu-chan!?” he sputters. “And I’ll have you know, lady, this is just a job, I’m a freelance pho-” he’s cut off by Suoh, who wraps his arms around Akihito’s waist and lifts him off the ground kicking and struggling. “Put me down, you great... big... PANDA!”  
  
“Takaba,” Asami intones evenly, “what is the meaning of this little outburst? Did someone forget to feed you today?”  
  
Suddenly, Akihito is at a loss for words. He opens his mouth to speak a few times, but everything that threatens to come out sounds like a jealous lover... and Akihito is not jealous... and he’s not Asami’s lover, right? In the end, he shuts his mouth, turns his head, and folds his arms over his chest.  
  
“As I suspected. Check him for a camera.”  
  
“Ryu-chan, what on earth is going on?” the woman asks.  
  
“Nothing, Shinozaki-san,” Asami responds, not taking his eyes from Akihito, who is currently being patted down by Suoh and protesting every second of it. An amused smile crosses the crime lord’s face.  
  
“No camera, boss,” Suoh reports, “Should I let him go?”  
  
Asami laughs and it is just as humiliating as Akihito thought it would be. “So the infamous Takaba Akihito, criminal photographer, has a boring little day job, is that it? The illusion is shattered.”  
  
Akihito sends him one defiant scowl before turning away again, “I’m just between jobs, okay?” he mumbles.  
  
Asami laughs harder and turns to Suoh. “Take him to the penthouse. Make sure he doesn’t escape.”  
  
“Yes, boss,” Suoh says, effortlessly tossing the wriggling Akihito over his shoulder. “Would you like me to call Kei?”  
  
Asami looks around, still mirthful. “It seems safe enough to me, no need to involve Kirishima on his day off,” He wraps his arms around Shinozaki-san’s waist. “Shall we dance, Miho-chan?”  
  
Akihito cranes his neck only to see Asami leading the woman onto the dance floor. “Hey, put me down, you big... ape!” he shouted, drawing looks from other guests.  
  
“If you’re not quiet, I’ll have to knock you out,” Suoh answers, “Can’t have you embarrassing the boss.”  
  
“Like hell! What about me!? I’m the one being dragged out of here! What about my job?”  
  
Suoh sighs.  
  
Akihito wakes up in Asami’s penthouse in Asami’s bed, but alone. His head throbs slightly and he feels for a bump, but there isn’t one. He takes in his surroundings and notes that nothing has changed since the last time he was here and then his eyes freeze at the doorway.  
  
Asami leans, arms folded, against the door frame. “Nice of you to return to the land of the living,” he smirks. “I thought perhaps Suoh had killed you until you started snoring,” He advances toward Akihito’s prone form and that’s when Akihito notices one important fact he somehow neglected before: all of his clothes are gone. Asami, as usual, is still dressed, but only in his white dress-shirt and black trousers. “Of course, that has its uses as well, I suppose,” Asami says lightly, closing the distance further.  
  
“H-hey, leave me alone, you jerk,” Akihito pushes himself against the headboard, unable to make a real escape, finding himself stuck in Asami’s molten gaze.  
  
In a flash, Asami straddles him, leaning in, and holding Akihito captive with his eyes. “Now would you care to explain your behavior at the party?” his voice is lilting but ever so slightly dangerous. “You’ll be punished no matter what you say, but it’s only fair to give you a chance,” it’s a warning more than anything else.  
  
“Just get off me, okay? I’m not gay and apparently you aren’t either.” Akihito pushes at Asami’s well-muscled chest, knowing beforehand that it’s no use.  
  
“Ah is that it? You’re struggling with your sexuality,” Asami teases, “Well in that case, allow me to help you sort it out,” he grins and runs his fingers over Akihito’s bare chest.  
  
“No!” the younger man exclaims. “I. Like. Girls. Okay?”  
  
Asami’s smirk widens and his roaming fingers drift ever downward, tweaking Akihito’s nipples as they go, causing the boy’s conviction to begin to crack and his cock to harden. “As do I, on occasion,” he says casually, “So if not your sexuality, in which you are obviously so secure, you must be jealous.”  
  
Akihito sputters again. “What? I mean... what!? Of your pampered... concubine!? No way!”  
  
Asami chuckles. “Concubine. So formal, Akihito. And do you wish you were my pampered... concubine instead?” he asks mockingly and when there’s no response he leans in, suddenly serious and levels Akihito with a darkened gaze. “You could be, you know.”  
  
Akihito stares at him, befuddled. “You’re crazy. I don’t want to be your anything. And I’m not jealous of anyone.”  
  
Asami’s fingers, which were achingly close to Akihito’s member, fly back up and wrap loosely around his neck. “Oh but I think you are,” he caresses the boy’s jugular and presses kisses along his jaw.  
  
“Stop,” Akhito whines futilely.  
  
“Why? As I said, you must be punished, though you always seem to enjoy your punishments a bit too much...”  
  
“You just slept with her,” he replies, gesturing to the make-up smeared across Asami’s loosened collar.  
  
“Is that a problem?” Asami asks coolly, as if inquiring about the weather or the time. “Did you think you and I were exclusive?”  
  
Mind scrambling, Akihito struggles to come up with an answer. Had he really thought that? Why would he? They’d barely known each other a month. And more importantly, why would Akihito want to be exclusive with such an arrogant, controlling jerk? But then, why did he feel so betrayed?  
  
Asami laughs again and it’s even more humiliating this time around. “Make up your mind, Takaba. Are you in or out?” It’s a challenge and damn that bastard for knowing exactly how to manipulate him. Asami’s eyes rest pointedly on Akihito’s bare erection, one of his own quickly forming in his trousers, “Ah, it seems your body may answer for you.” He captures Akihito’s lips with his own, pushes his hips down and swallows the cries the action elicits.  
  
Akihito tears his mouth from Asami’s and gasps for air. “S-stop,” he pants, raising his hands to push away again, but Asami catches both of his wrists in his hand in one fluid motion. He tries to glare at Asami, but finds that he can’t stand to meet his eyes and his vision falls on Asami’s red-stained collar. Transfixed, he misses the older man’s smirk.  
  
“I’d never have guessed you were such a romantic, Akihito,” Asami laughter rumbles next to Akihito’s ear. His fingertips slide under Akihito’s hip and down the cleft of his buttocks.  
  
Akihito tries to cover up his embarrassed blush with a glare and can only hope it works. He pushes at Asami’s forearm, but the man doesn’t budge. “Romantic!?” He sputters indignantly. “Who said anything about romance? This is about hygiene!”  
  
All mirth gone, Asami bears down on him and with the darkened expression painting his face, Akihito could swear he’s annoyed. “Care to repeat that, Takaba?” he grits out.  
  
“Hygiene,” Akihito says, somewhat succeeding at keeping his cool. “If you’re going to sleep with every high-class whore in Tokyo, you can count me out. I don’t need any of your diseases.” He knows he should stop, but the more Asami’s face screws up with what is quite obviously rage, the more it encourages Akihito. “I mean, I really should go to a doctor or something. Who knows what I’ve already got from you?”  
  
“Is that what you think?” Asami asks, his voice betraying none of his anger.  
  
“Yeah. I mean... romantic!? Who could feel romantic with a guy like you? This is about my health here!” Akihito feels the hole he’s digging for himself getting deeper and deeper, but it’s too late to stop now. “You don’t give me a say about screwing me six ways upside down from Sunday, you could at least let me have a say about my health.”  
  
For a moment, Akihito is sure he’s going to get hit, but then then, like a volcano suddenly turning around and retracting all it’s ash and smoke, Asami’s face is relaxed and inscrutable again. “The way you scale buildings, jump rooftops and taunt gangsters rather gave me the impression that you didn’t care very much for your health.”  
  
Akihito knows instantly he’s lost whatever slight upper hand he just had. “W-well I... uh...”  
  
“Furthermore,” Asami continues, “You think that I don’t care about my own health?”  
  
“Well you are always sucking on those cancer sticks.”  
  
“Indeed. As it happens, I make sure all of my partners are safe before taking them to bed,” Asami’s tone is curt, almost impatient.  
  
“Like you did me?” Akihito counters with the very last of his bravado.  
  
His usual smug smirk paints itself over Asami’s face once again. “You think I didn’t do any research on you, Takaba Akihito? I have copies of your school records, your juvenile record and yes, your medical history as well.”  
  
The color flees Akihito’s face in an instant.  
  
“You see, my cute Akihito,” he begins trailing his fingers across the boy’s skin again, “I am very, very thorough. Although I think we both know that there’s no threat from your sexual history, or lack there of,” Asami hums mockingly.  
  
An image of a small animal being cornered by a rather large jungle cat invades Akihito’s brain and his eyes widen.  
  
“Now of course,” Asami leans in and nibbles at Akihito’s jaw, “I’m not in the habit of deflowering virgins,” he claims the boy’s lips at the same time his fingers finally brush against his cock, “but I thought in your case I’d make an exception.”  
  
Reflexively, Akihito’s back arches toward Asami’s touch and his hands fall to the man’s shoulders, but if there original intention was to push or not, all he can do is cling as Asami’s fist closes over his erection, just barely shifting up and down. Not one noise of protest passes his lips as Asami descends on them once again. He can feel Asami’s member hard against his hipbone and there’s no way he can help the thrills that slip down his spine at the thought of it inside him.  
  
Asami breaks the kiss, leaving Akihito gasping for air beneath him. “And aren’t you glad I did?” he gloats. He flicks his tongue over Akihito’s nipple until the boy is twitching and writhing against the sheets.  
  
Akihito is aware of the sound of moans filling the room, but somewhat less aware that they are coming from himself. Pleasure fogs his brain until everything is a cloud of sensations and touches around him. He curves his hips up toward Asami’s, sensitive skin meeting the soft, expensive fabric of Asami’s trousers.  
  
The fog whirlwinds around Akihito’s head and then whooshes clear when he feels Asami press his cool, wet fingers against his entrance. One pushes inside followed swiftly by the other and they scissor in and out of Akihito’s body. He tosses his head back and groans, and distantly wants to tell Asami to stop because it’s not fair. Not fair that Asami’s dressed and he’s not, not fair that Asami just slept with that girl even though Akihito is not jealous and not fair that Asami can make him feel like this and... and... oh.  
  
Asami’s lips wrap around Akihito’s arousal, sucking hard at the same moment he slips a third finger inside of the boy.  
  
Nearly boneless, Akihito barely has enough strength raise his head up and look down, only to catch Asami’s eyes boring into him and blush heavily. He squirms under the scrutiny, but the discomfort doesn’t diminish his arousal, if anything, the heated look in Asami’s eyes only makes him harder. So many things fly from his mind, like the fact that Asami is a man, like the fact that that’s supposed to matter, like any objection to Asami’s chosen... profession. His whole world is Asami’s mouth on him and Asami’s fingers-  
  
“AH!” Akihito screams unabashedly as Asami’s fingers brush against that spot inside of him he’d almost forgotten about. “Ye- hah- Asa- Asa-mmm,” he huffs out.  
  
Asami releases him from his mouth and slides his fingers out slowly and Akihito whines at the loss, feeling suddenly cold and empty, but is not given any time to examine it before Asami thrusts into him and all semblance of coldness and emptiness is gone.  
  
Asami braces himself over Akihito, surrounding him entirely. He doesn’t move and Akihito can see something wild and feral uncoiling in Asami’s eyes, but doesn’t have the presence of mind to be afraid. His breath catches when Asami’s lips melt to his again and drinks down the kiss like a man in the desert. Breaking away when he can’t breathe anymore, Akihito stammers out, “M-move. Please.”  
  
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Asami pulls out almost all the way and slams back into Akihito, striking against the boy’s prostate, wrenching a strangled cry from his throat.  
  
Akihito wraps his arms around Asami, his nails digging into hot flesh. With his head tossed back, he misses the darkened, devilish lust that crosses Asami’s face. He’s left to do nothing but cling as Asami pounds into him mercilessly and it feels so good and hot and Asami is so big and somewhere in the back of his mind, Akihito feels full, complete.  
  
He nearly shrieks when Asami bites into his neck and with the angle of Asami’s cock hitting him just so, just right, he comes trembling and screaming Asami’s name. The shattered pieces of his consciousness reassemble themselves in time to feel Asami spilling all over Akihito’s stomach and his pleasure-addled brain laments the void that Asami seems to have left behind.  
  
Asami doesn’t kick him out right away, which Akihito finds a little strange, but doesn’t complain. He can barely walk yet so he lies in the bed, curled up into himself and flinching slightly as Asami runs his fingers over Akihito’s bare hip.  
  
“You know,” Asami begins conversationally, “Shinozaki-san is the daughter of one of my business partners. I took her to the benefit as a favor to her father.”  
  
Akihito gulps, thankful his back is turned to Asami so that the man can’t see his face color. It’s easier to build up bravado again, “Did you sleep with her as a favor to her father too?”  
  
Asami rolls the boy over and tips his chin so they are eye to eye. “I just thought you should know, you may well have ruined a very amicable business relationship,” Akihito doesn’t miss the wicked gleam in his eye this time, “I suppose I’ll have to punish you some more, my little green-eyed monster.”  
  
“I’m not jeal-!” and Akihito, not for the first time and certainly not the last, is silenced with a kiss.


End file.
